King
by The.Dragon.Singer
Summary: "That, my friend, is a giant freaking robot. And it is trying to kill us. My suggestion: Save Epps and haul ass out of here!" OC X Sideswipe, sibling Jazz/OC. Prime X Elita. Ironhide x Chromia.
1. Intro

"I'm never going to your mama's house. I promise." Robert Epps pointed his finger at the man across from him.

"Bobby, Bobby!" Fig shook his head. "Alligators are know to have the most succulent meat."

Epps rolled his eyes as the man went off in Spanish, mouthing strange words along with Fig.

"English, please. _English_." Robert grumbled.

"How many times-" The young man next to Fig glanced around. "We don't speak Spanish, man."

"Why you gotta _ruin_ it for me, man? That's my heritage!" Fig began before spewing out his native language.

"We don't do Spanish." Lennox muttered, turning his head away.

"Hey," The man across from Lennox spoke up, peering through his glasses. "You remember weekends in the States? Eatin' a cold hot dog and drinking a flat beer?"

"Hmm." Fig nodded, and looked at Lennox. "What about you, Captain?"

"I just can't wait to hold my baby girl for the first time." He smiled, listening as his friends started teasing him. "_Shut up_!"

"What about you, Lieutenant?" Fig leaned to look at the quiet figure on the other side of Lennox. "Lieutenant?"

"Someone poke-" Donnelly, the flat beer guy, started.

"Dude, I'm Spanish. Not _suicidal_." Fig protested, raising his hands.

"Good." The Lieutenant finally spoke up, and the figure leaned forward on her knees. "Cause by now, if you had poked me, you'd be hard pressed to fire your gun for several weeks."

"Mitch, you wound me." Fig cried, dramatically clutching his heart as their ride lowered towards the base.

"I can if you want me to. But then you'd have to see the _medic_." Fig shuddered.

* * *

"Look how _pathetic_ they are," Mitch snorted, hands on her hips as she leaned against a pole near her childhood friend. Lennox snorted. "In their little blow up kiddy pools, and their blow up toys. Wonder what they'd do if their pools were suddenly popped?"

"You're not going to do it are you?" Will looked up.

"Maybe. _Maybe not_. You'll _never_ know. I'm gonna find Rob and get a game of poker going. Say hi to Sarah for me during your video chat." Mitch turned and walked off, smiling down at the local boy running towards the Captain. He smiled back and rushed up to Will.

Mitch sauntered past the tents housing other units and ducked into the fourth from the end of base.

Fig and Epps were standing in their boxers, arguing. Fig was going off in Spanish again, and Epps looked as though he wanted to blow.

Mitch grinned, crossing her arms over her bound chest.

"You guys were having an underwear party and you didn't tell me?!" She snickered, stepping towards her cot on the other side of the room. The poker chips and the cards she'd brought were stashed underneath.

"Yes?" Fig nodded, grabbing his pants from his own cot, clean ones. "I'm having a shower. Deal me a hand, chica. I'll be back in _tres minutos._"

The Spanish man left and Epps grumbled as he dressed.

Mitch shook her head and swept everything on their small table onto the ground before opening the case.

"You're gonna have to clean that up." Rob pointed out as he pulled on his shirt. Mitch shrugged, shuffling the cards.

"You still got that bag of pretzels?" The woman asked, blowing some of her short black hair from her eyes with a grin.

"Nope. I've got Cheezies though. Monica sent them. I love her care packages." Rob fished under his cot and then paused. "You should get a boyfriend, like a chef. Then he can send us good food."

"Tch. Doubt he'd be able to keep up with me." Mitch snickered. "I live for _danger_. A chef would be too goody-two-shoes. Hurry up, Rob."

"I'm comin'." He mumbled as Fig rushed back in.

* * *

"Did you feel that?" Mitch frowned, snatching up one of her Cheezies.

"Feel what? All in." Rob pushed is tiny pile of Cheezies into middle. The ground shook and there was a sudden spray of gun fire. Mitch and Rob dropped what they were doing and bolted, grabbing their weapons on the way out.

Mitch easily pulled ahead of her black friend, her long legs providing swiftness. The two pistols she kept at the small of her back were out in seconds, loaded and ready.

She skidded to a halt, grey eyes wide at the giant walking weapons platform. There were a pair of copter blades on it's back and two bright crimson optics shone through the dark metal of its face.

The woman ducked beneath a stationary tank, gazing around. Her eyes caught movement and she crawled under the war machine before darting over to where Lennox, Donnelly and Fig were hiding.

"What is that thing!?" Mitch hissed, crouching beside them.

"Big, ugly and ready to kill us?" Lennox growled, peering around the edge of the tank they were hidden behind. "Where's Epps?"

"Uh," Mitch internally growled at herself. _'Uh'_ was not professional. She swung her grey eyes around the dark military base. "He was behind me...kind of."

Fig sent up a spray of dirt as he skidded into their hideout.

"What the hell is that thing!?" The Spaniard squeaked.

"That, my friend, is a giant freaking robot. And it is trying to kill us." Mitch finally spotted Epps, beneath the behemoth metal invader. "My suggestion: Save Epps, and then haul ass out of here!"

"I like that!" Lennox nodded. "Let's do that!"

Fig fumbled for the flare gun at his waist, firing one of the two flares he had straight into the chest of the metal monster. The team shared looks as Epps ran forward and Lennox pulled him behind the tank.

"Fire the other one for cover, and then we'll run." Mitch tensed. The team looked at Lennox who pointed to her with a very serious expression. "Fig, pop a flare."

"Yes, sir." Fig loaded up his gun.

"Don't call me sir." She growled, and then looked at Epps. "Do I look like a sir?"

Epps shook his head as Fig fired and the group of soldiers dashed for the edge of the military base, where the sands offered protection. The sand would not offer protection from the sun, if they managed to escape. Lennox, Donnelly, Fig and all the other men were dressed in full battle uniform; Lennox, Donnelly and Fig not having been able to take it off.

Epps and Mitch on the other hand, were both wearing their uniform pants, which were surprisingly comfortable, combat boots, and tank-tops. The one Mitch wore was one of her favorites, a blue loose top she'd gotten on sale at a Walmart, one which read '_You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me!'. _It was quite comfortable thank you very much. Against the large group of escapees, which wasn't many, Epps and Mitch would be the only too not roasting in their clothing.

There was probably a seventy percent chance that most of the men, because Mitch was the only woman, would strip off their clothes and leave them behind.

Mitch easily kept up with her Captain, glancing over her shoulder twice, once with a camera on the crappy flip phone she kept with her to take pictures. It was the only reason she had it.

Mitch had no direct family left, and the distant relations she had she didn't talk to. She had no romantic partner, so there was no one to call. And the phone was shit anyway.

The only person she called was the pizza place, by borrow her neighbours phone, and Will Lennox, usually by a nearby payphone outside her apartment building.

But she wasn't home; Michelle "Mitch" King was stuck in the desert of Qatar, running from a giant robot, and she was about to get sucked into something, she had no idea was coming.


	2. Scorponok

Mitch narrowed her eyes at the heat waves bouncing off the sand. Her short black hair was plastered to her head, along with her shirt, and her feet were baking in their boots.

Will looked equally as tired, grumpy even, and he had several streaks of dirt across his face. There was a long cut across Fig's cheek, a result of running into a large rock. Luckily, Mitch had been on watch that night after the attack, and hadn't laughed _too_ hard at him, like the other men would have.

It didn't concern Mitch that she was the only female in the group. In fact, it made her feel better, because most of the men who had escaped were quite kind towards females, which meant she got water and food, if they could find any, before the others.

Mitch wasn't selfish, but _godammit_, she was human.

"I never want to see sand again." Donnelly grumbled, glaring at the dunes.

"Well," Mitch clapped him on the shoulder with a grim smile. "I hate to inform you of this, but that means you can't go to the beach. And considering that we're going to be stuck here for Lord knows how long, you're pretty much screwed."

"I hate your logic."

"That's nice. Can we focus on getting out of this shit hole instead of the woes of your mind?" She snorted, turning on her heel and striding to Will.

"I've never seen a weapons system like this." Epps muttered, holding the camera with the picture of the system on it. "The thermals shows this weird aura around the exoskeleton, like it's cloaked by some invisible force field."

"That's impossible." Donnelly snorted, fingering the gun in his hands. "There's no such thing as invisible force fields! Except in, like, comic books, and stuff, right?"

"Man, I don't know." Epps grumbled, crossing his arms across his sweat soaked chest.

"What is that thing?" Will muttered, peering at the picture in the device.

"My mama, she had the gift, you know?" Fig spoke up, seated on the half-buried tank they'd managed to find. "She saw things. I got the gene, too, and that thing that attacked us? I have a feeling this ain't over."

"Jinx us, why don't you." Mitch snorted. "And stop talking about your mama! We don't care!"

"Yeah." Donnelly nodded. "So, how 'bout you use those magic voodoo powers of yours, and get us the hell out of here, huh?"

"When I took that picture," Mitch turned to face Epps, who looked troubled. "I think it saw me. It looked right at me."

"All right. We've got to get this thing back to the Pentagon right away." Will held up the camera. "They gotta know what we're dealing with here."

"My radio is fried. I got no communication with aerial." Rob shook his head, frowning.

"Hey, Mahfouz." The little local boy with the group looked up at Will when he was addressed. "How far do you live from here?"

"Not far. Just up that mountain." Mahfouz pointed to the rock formation. Mitch grumbled under her breath.

"Great more walking." She looked at the kid. "They have a phone?"

"Yes."

"Alight, let's hit it." Will turned on his heel and began walking.

"You heard the man. Let's go, lazy asses!"

"Yes, sir!" Fig saluted lazily.

"Fig, I'm not a sir."

"Yes, sir!"

"I'm going to punch you."

"Yes-" Mitch sent him a glare, and Fig shut his mouth.

* * *

As the mountain village came into view, Mitch's eyes locked on one thing. There was a barrel _filled_ with water.

Right there.

Just waiting for her. It was probably hot, and probably wouldn't taste too great, but it was _water_.

Rob had the same idea. The two soldiers shared looks and Epps lunged for the handle of the ladle placed within the container. Mitch snorted, dunking her head into the barrel and flipping her head out when she ran out of air. Fig sent her an annoyed look as she splashed him. The water dripped down her head in rivers, soaking her shirt and pants, but the First Lieutenant couldn't bring herself to care.

"Let's hope this telephone line works." Will muttered, eying the structure.

"Hey! Heads up!" Epps yelped, leaping out of the way as the scaffolding beside the water barrel decided to collapse.

Donnelly glanced behind him as the metal billboard structure hit the ground, squinting against the sun. "What the heck was that?"

"El letrero ya mero me rompe el culo" Fig growled out. Donnelly rolled his eyes.

"English, dude. English."

Mitch shook her head. "Eh, amigo. Que letrero de cerca quiebra mi culo, tambien."

"Tu hablas espanol?!"

"Si." She grinned, nodding. Fig threw his hands up. "Yo no soy probar su Mama's caiman!"

"Sino es sabroso!"

"English, guys! English!" Will yelled. Mitch laughed. "I knew not taking Spanish in high school was stupid!"

"WHOA!" Epps bellowed, brown eyes staring at something over Will's shoulder. The black man lifted his gun. Will turned, lifting his gun on reflex along with the other members of his team. "Watch out!"

Will danced in a circle, trying to avoid the metal...what-ever-it-was that was going to attack him. It had vanished into the sand, and left the radar-less group with problems.

The metal monster burst from the sand again, took a few shots from their already-low-on-ammunition guns, before drilling back down. Sand sprayed over their location, creating panic as the soldiers fired at the ground.

"Open fire!"

"Contact! Contact!"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND HOLD STILL!" Mitch bellowed, eyes narrowed against the sand, the sun, and in her anger.

"Whoa, mother..." Epps growled, panting. "What the _hell_ was that!?"

And explosion of sand behind Donnelly announced the arrival of the monster. It's spiked "tail" shot forward, and Mitch stared, finger loose against the trigger of one of her pistols. Crimson blood splattered onto the tan sand as Donnelly was yanked backwards, screaming in both pain and fear. The smaller weapons platform, as it seemed to be of the same general design as the one at the SOCCENT base, wiggled back into it's hole.

"Run!" Will yelled, pointing for the village in the near distance. The military men slung their weapons over their backs and scrambled across the sand, rolling down the dune outside the village as they shouted in fear.

Mitch caught Mahfouz as he tripped, hauling the boy up and over to Lennox.

She fired past Fig and Epps as they ran away from the mechanical monster. Mitch growled, and she scrambled in the sand a moment to race towards the captain yelling for them to move.

Mitch spun, pulling out her other pistol as she moved to reload the first. The beast leapt from the sand. The raven haired woman froze, grey eyes fixed on the two glowing red eyes located on what could be classified as the machine's face.

"Lieutenant! Let's move!" Fig yelled, grabbing her arm. "That thing is gonna kill us!"

Mitch shook herself from her stupor as the beastly machine clicked and whirred, scuttling back and forth on it's feet. As the duo got farther away, a glance could tell the woman that the weapons system looked like a large mutated scorpion.

"Take cover!" Will yelled to the civilians. "Fig, cover the rear! Cover fire! Move it! Fig, cover the rear! Epps! Cover the rear! Move it!"

Mitch tossed some one a mag, and continued running, lifting Mahfouz into her arms and swinging him around onto her back in a smooth motion.

"Where's your papa?" Will asked fratically. The boy pointed to a small hut with a worried looking man in the doorway.

"Sir, we need...I need a telephone!" Will skidded to a halt as Mitch lowered the poor boy to the ground and to the safety of his papa.

"Telephone?"

"Telephone, telephone, yes!"

"Telephone! Cell phone!" The man handed a small silver cellphone over to the American and Will darted into the next room.

"I don't know how to thank you!"

"Thank you for bringing my Mahfouz back to me safe." The man bowed to Mitch, who grinned at his slow English.

"You be good. Stay safe." She told the boy. "Tell your father that he's a good man, and he's got a good son."

Mahfouz nodded and Mitch went to stand next to her captain.

"This is an emergency Pentagon call!" He yelled into the cell phone, one hand clapped over his ear to try and block out noise from the fighting outside. "I need you to...Do you understand? It's an emergency Pentagon call!"

The two soldiers ducked as the window and a large spray of debris flew towards them.

"I don't have a credit card!" Will was silent a moment, rushing back out into the field with a gun in one hand and a phone in the other. Mitch rushed after him. The two civilians, Mahfouz and his papa, bowed on the way out. They received a grin in return.

"I'm in the middle of a war! This is frigging ridiculous! I need a credit card!" Will looked at his SiC for help. Mitch shrugged.

"Epp's should have one! He stole it from one of the guards while we were behind enemy lines!" Will nodded and made a dash for the Sergent Major directing the attack.

"Epps! Where's your wallet!?" Will ducked below a rubble wall.

"Pocket!" Rob yelled back. Mitch crouched behind the man, narrowing her eyes.

"Which pocket!?"

"My back pocket!" Epps roared like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You've got _ten fucking back pockets!_" Mitch snarled, gesturing helplessly.

"Left cheek! Left cheek! Left cheek!" The woman snatched the wallet from the Sergent Major's pocket and tossed it to Will before scrambling over.

"Keep shooting! Keep shooting!" The black man bellowed to the rest of the SOCCENT survivors.

"Okay, it's Visa!" Will yelled back into the cell phone. "What do you mean you don't take Visa!? Mitch, you deal with the asshole!"

The woman caught the phone, and tucked it between her shoulder and her ear while she continued firing.

_'Also, sir, have you heard about our premium plus world-service gold package?'_

"I'm sorry. I don't want your premium plus world-service gold package." Mitch practically cooed. "My college is busy at the moment, so I'll continue."

_'How can I help you, ma'am?' _The Indian man on the other line asked, boredom in his tone.

"You listen to me, you underpaid idiot," The army woman snarled, eyes narrowed. "Reverse the fucking charges, I don't want any stupid package you might have. Connect me to the Pentagon right now, or I swear to all the fucking deities in the universe, I'm going to hunt you down and kick your ass."

_'Ma'am, your attitude-'_

"Sir, I am military First Lieutenant. Patch me through to the Pentagon, _now._"

_'Yes, ma'am.'_

"Epps! Pentagon!" The man caught the phone as it sailed his way.

"I'm Sergent Major Robert Epps! I'm part of a Special Ops team! We're survivors of the SOCCENT base attack in Qatar! I ain't never seen this in my life! Need gunships on station ASAP! Unknown, man. I don't...Man, if you seen this shit..."

Mitch growled, aiming for the red lights on the face area of the mechanical scorpion.

"Predator eta two minutes." Epps growled out, then turned his focus back to the person on the other end of the phone.

"It's got missiles!" Mitch yelled, grabbing the larger gun on her back. Her pistols slid easily into the holsters she kept, and the second larger rifle was trained on the scorpion.

"How many of us are there?" The woman turned, eyes scanning as she mentally counted.

"Seven!"

"Seven-man team north of orange smoke!" Epps scrambled out of the way of another spray of debris, before he tossed a grenade. "Attack direction west. You're clear and hot!"

"Lennox!" Will looked over at the yell of his two subordinates and friends. "The heat's coming!"

"Laze the targets!" The American yelled. "We've got a beam-rider incoming! Laze the target!"

Mitch tossed her rifle to the ground and pulled out the green laser she kept in her cleavage as well as the first pistol she touched. With one arm firing and the other keeping a laze on the mechanical target, Mitch kept one hard grey eye out of the incoming jets.

"Ready! Heat's coming!"

"What!?" Epps roared, keeping a laser on the beast. "Bring it!"

Gun fire peppered the sand, striking the scorpion as it staggered to the side. Several missiles flew forward, the impact throwing up sand and brown smoke.

Epps, Lennox, and Mitch peered over their shelter, and they growled.

"That thing is still not fucking down? That's impossible."

"Spooky Three-Two use one-oh-five shells." Epps stared as he issued his order into the phone. "Bring the rain."

As the dust cleared for the third time, Mitch growled yet again. The mechanical scorpion was _gone_.

* * *

**The conversation, in Spanish, that Fig and Mitch have, is translated below.**

**Fig: That sign nearly busted my ass!**

**Donnelly: "English, dude. English!"**

**Mitch: Hey, dude. That sign almost busted my ass too!**

**Fig: You speak Spanish!?**

**Mitch: Yeah. I am not trying your mama's alligator!**

**Fig: But it's tasty!**

**Will: "English, guys! English!"**


	3. Mission City

**Sorry for the lateness of this chapter.**

* * *

Mitch sat against the wall of the large military plane, keeping one of her grey eyes on the medical area the paramedics had rushed Fig into. He'd been crushed by some of the rubble, and had been grazed several times by stray bullets, so the Spaniard was a bit worse for wear.

Will and Epps had carried the end of the scorpion's tail father into the plane and placed it on a table to examine it.

The rest of the team were drinking bottles of water by the dozen and stuffing their faces with plane peanuts. Mitch was weary, dirt-covered, but held herself back from gorging like a pig...which is what she usually did.

She sighed. Visions of soft beds, hot showers, and a large McDonald's burger swam into mind and she forcefully shook it out. That would be where she went first when the Special Ops unit landed back in the States.

At the moment, the woman was content to rest near the side of the plane, sprawled in one of the large piles of netting, which was where she'd moved in the span of a few minutes.

Will appeared in her line of sight, which was a single direction...up.

"What are you doing?" He asked, amused.

"Shhh. I'm sleeping." Mitch muttered, throwing her arm over her face and nearly socking Will in the jaw at the same time.

"Watch where you swing those things. Those are dangerous."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."

* * *

Mitch yawned, stretching as the Special Ops team departed their plane at the Nellis Air Force Base, her duffel slung over her shoulder.

"So good to be home." She moaned, bumping her Captain and the Sargent with her hips. "First thing I'm gonna do is get a Big Mac. A big greasy Big Mac with sauce dripping out the sides and a box of crispy golden fries..."

"Damn, girl." Rob complained. "You're making me hungry!"

Will chuckled and shifted the rifle in his hand. As they made their way down the asphalt of the runway toward where they could probably get a bus or taxi, a trio of black SUV's pulled up, flashing their blue and red lights.

The door on the vehicle opened, and a man in a suit came running out. "Captain Lennox, we need you and your team to come with us right now."

The blond man snatched the bag from Lennox's hand. "Let's go."

Rob and Mitch shared looks and darted for the vehicle their Captain was hurrying towards. Mitch pouted slightly as they hurled themselves into the black transports.

'_Dammit. More action? Seriously? Can't a woman get a break?'_

* * *

"I don't like helicopters anymore." Mitch grumbled, holding her head the best she could in the crowded passenger area. Her short hair whipped around her face as she leaned back and glared at the ground beneath them.

Lennox hummed in acknowledgement, but otherwise didn't move, save for the twitching of his hand against his knee.

The helicopter shifted and it landed with a light bump. The Special Ops unit scrambled off, and piled into the SUV's waiting for them. The second helicopter unloaded it's passengers, and the convoy took off as Mitch snapped her seatbelt into place.

The driver glanced back at them and his eyes landed on Mitch. She arched an eyebrow at him, but he merely grinned. "We'll be making a pit stop in twenty minutes, and there's fresh uniforms in the back."

Mumbled thanks came from the tired SO unit.

"Miss, you why you part of this team of rag-tag men?"

"Tch." Mitch scoffed. "My talents are wasted otherwise. Besides, these guys are my family. Ain't nobody closer, or better, than family."

"Aww, why'd you have to mention family, Mitch!?" Will groaned, slamming his head against the window. "Sarah is probably worried sick."

"Hey, don't go preachin' bout your family, Lennox." Rob pointed a finger at the Captain. "I got a family too."

"Oi, ¿qué hay de ustedes dos cállate antes rompo mis pies en el culo." Mitch snapped.

"English, dude, Engli-" Will and Rob stared at the woman between them. She looked extremely smug.

"You just pulled a Fig." Rob gave her a strange look. Fig had been rushed to the nearest Emergency room, and unfortunately wasn't with them.

"Somebody had to."

"You have half an hour." The driver pulled into a small rest station, and Mitch's eyes zeroed in on the glowing golden arches across the street. The second Rob was out of the SUV, Mitch had hurled herself around him, thrown open the back, grabbed the only female uniform and raced across the street. She was nearly nailed by a car, but only grinned at the angry honk.

"Where is she going?" Will asked, grabbing himself a uniform before trotting over to the men's washroom located around the side of the Chevron they'd pulled into.

"I do believe she's going to McDonalds." Rob laughed. "Yo! Get me some fries and a Quarter Pounder!"

Mitch flashed him the bird.

"Get it yourself, lazy ass Sargent!"

She hurled herself into the fast food restaurant, and sighed as cool air swept over her. Some of the other customers gave her filthy figure disgusted looks, but they vanished behind the bathroom door. Mitch was quick to clean herself up, throwing her head under the warm water, and wiping her face chest and arms off with a damp paper towel. The uniform she wore was shoved into the bag that held the new one, and she was lacing up her combat boots when a woman entered the washroom.

"You're with those handsome military men across the road, I take it?" She asked, washing her hands once she had finished her business. The McDonalds shirt she wore made it obvious that she worked there.

"That's my team." Mitch nodded.

"You're in charge then?" The blond's blue eyes flashed in surprise.

"Hell no. I'm the Lieutenant."

"Oh. My dad's a policeman, and my mom's the manager here."

"Look, I gotta go." Mitch made for the door, but she paused. "There a wait on fries?"

"Nope!"

Mitch grinned, striding out the door.

_They're coming..._

Mitch looked around for the voice, but shrugged when she found no one.

_They're coooooming~...You'll have to help me, little femme. _

"What the fuck? Am I hallucinating or something?"

"Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Two Big Macs, three large fries, and two Quarter pounders. Oh, and a Pepsi."

"We only have-"

_Pay attention to me. _The voice hissed, and Mitch mindlessly went through the routine of paying and finishing her order, before she leaned against the counter to wait. _They're coming and they'll awaken him. You mustn't let them get me. _

"Have a nice day."

"You too."

_Stay away from the ones with the red eyes. _

"Okay. It's official. I'm hallucinating."

* * *

"To attention!"

"Present forms!"

"At ease." The Defense Secretary strode past with quick steps. "Captain, Lieutenant, Sargent; we got your intel. Excellent work."

"Thank you." Lennox nodded. "Sir, what about the gunships?"

"They're being retrofitted with saber rounds now. If they hit us again, we'll be ready for them. But that won't so us much good unless we get world communications back up."

Mitch's fingers itched towards the box of fries in her back pocket, but she stilled her urges...just barely.

"Come this way, and we'll brief you."

**Minutes later...**

"Alright, here's the situation. You've all had direct contact with the NBE's." The man known as Seymour Simmons spoke loudly as he led them through the underground levels of the Hoover Dam.

"NBE's?" Rob asked, confused.

"Non-Biological Extraterrestrials. Try and keep up with the acronyms." Simmons snapped. Mitch rolled her eyes and plucked a few fries from the box in her hand.

"What you're about to see, is totally classified." Banachek called as they entered a colder part of the damned Dam. Colder and wetter part.

Mitch whistled as she strode into the chamber. "That's a one big _ugly-looking _robot."

"Dear God," D.S. Keller stared in awe and surprise. "What is this?"

"We think, when he made his approach over the North Pole, our gravitational field screwed up his trajectory. He crashed in the ice, probably a few _thousand_ years ago. We shipped him here to this facility in nineteen thirty-four."

"Call him NBE-One." There was a hint of pride in Simmons' voice as he stopped about three feet away from the raised area that held the big _ugly-looking _robot.

"Sir," The male civilian teenager spoke up. "I don't _mean_ to correct you about everything you think you know, but that's Megatron."

Simmons turned.

"He's the leader of the Decepticons."

_Evil bastards._

_'God dammit.' _Mitch growled to herself. '_The voice is back!'_

"He's been in cryostasis since nineteen thirty-five." Banachek gestured to the frozen hunk-of-junk, and then addressed the kid. "Your great-great-grandfather made one of the greatest discoveries in the history of man-kind."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you're looking at the source of the modern age. Microchips, lasers, space flight, cars; all reverse engineered by studying him. NBE-One," Simmons glared at the kid. "That's what we call him."

"And you didn't think that the United States military might need to know that you're keeping a hostile alien robot hidden in the basement?!" Keller demanded, obviously stressed.

"Until these events," Banachek held his ground. "We had no credible to national security."

"Well, you got one _now_!"

"So, why Earth?" Lennox asked, still staring up at Megatron, or NBE-One.

"It's the AllSpark." Yet again, little civilian boy.

"The AllSpark? What is that?" Keller looked confused.

"Uh, they came here looking for some sort of cube-looking thing. Anyway, Mister NBE-One here, AKA _Megatron_ -that's what they call him-, pretty much the harvenger of death, wants to use the Cube to transform human technology to take over the universe. That's their plan." The kid crossed his arms with a sense of finality.

"You're sure about that?" Simmons growled out. The kid nodded.

A look of horror passed across his face. "You guys know where it is, don't you?"

"Follow me." Banachek nodded.

"You're about to see, our crowning jewel." Simmons proclaimed, leading them away. He entered a small door just off the main hallway, and entered first. Everyone else followed him to the three windows on the far side of the small room.

"Carbon dating puts the Cube here are ten thousand BC. The First Seven didn't find it-"

_Ooooh~! You found me! Aren't I pretty?_

_'You're a giant...fucking...CUBE!' _Mitch shrieked. _'I'm going crazy.'_

_No, you're not crazy. I'm the AllSpark. I can talk to the others if I wanted to. But I don't. There's something about you that I like._

_'So you're alive?!'_

_Kind of. I'm, as you put it so well, a giant fucking CUBE! I resided on Cybertron for most of my life, before safety precautions had to be taken, and I was jettisoned into space. I landed here, as the weird guys put, in ten thousand BC._

_'Wow.' _Mitch leaned forward, her nose merely an inch from the glass. Several sharp blue arcs of light flashed from the bottom corner of the cube.

_Oh dear...It seems that there's going to be trouble soon. _

"Wait, back up." The blond woman's eyes flickered around the hanger containing the Cube. "You said the dam hides the Cube's energy. What kind exactly?"

"Good question." Banachek led them through to another room.

It was made of concrete, painted beige, and heavy sheets of reenforced steel were bolted to the walls. Wires and mesh covered lighting fixtures spanned the roof, and more wires tumbled to several switches and buttons on the right. A glowing steel-and-glass box dominated the middle of the room.

"Please, step inside. They have to lock us in." The door closed with a heavy clang and Epps surveyed the walls.

"Oh, wow." The civilian man looked impressed.

"What? Freddy Kruger been up in here or something?" Rob asked, examining three-clawed cuts in the steel-and-concrete walls.

"Naw, man." The civilian shook his head. "Freddy Kruger have four blades, man. That's only three. That's Wolverine. Right, that's Wolverine."

"That's very funny." Simmons said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anybody have any mechanical devices; Blackberry, car lock, cellphone?"

"I got a phone." Wolverine-fan tossed his cell over, a defeated air about him. Simmons caught it one-handed and yanked open the vault door of the box, directing everyone to grab a pair of goggles.

"Ooh. Nokia's real nasty. You've got to respect the Japanese. They know the way..." He slammed the door closed dramatically. "Of the samurai."

"Nokia's from Finland." The blond lady muttered to Director Keller.

"Yes. But he...Shh." Keller pointed in Simmons' direction. "He's a bit strange."

"We're able to take the Cube radiation," The Sector Seven man explained as he pulled switches and everyone put on their goggles. "And funnel it into that box."

There was a flash of blue light, and the phone vibrated before it jumped up as a little spider-esque robot.

"Mean little sucker, huh?" Simmons prowled around the room. Lennox tapped the box.

"That thing is freaky!" The blond lady yelped.

"Kinda like an itty-bitty Energizer Bunny from hell, huh?" He chuckled, grinning. A gun popped from it's chest, and the robot fired several rounds at the glass, peppering it with bullet holes before launching a tiny missile.

"Ugh, you're breaking the box." Simmons tsked, pressing a button that left the robot smoking on the ground, dead.

The lights flickered several times, and the Secretary of Defense turned to the group. "Gentlemen, they know the Cube is here."

"Banachek," Banachek smashed his hand against an intercom. "What's going on?!"

"The NBE-One hanger has lost power and the back-up generator is just not going to cut it."

"What!?"

Lennox rushed to the other side of the table. "Do you have an arms room!?"

* * *

Mitch bolted into the arms room, heading straight towards the wall holding the pistols and their ammo. Her own custom pistols were tucked into their holster and she had only two rounds left between the two.

She packed herself with ammunition, and then head to where S-Seven kept their grenades. She filled three belts and wrapped all three around her waist, slanting down one of her legs. Her next stop was helping clean out the shelves for the assault rifles and the guns mounted atop several military jeeps.

"I need more saber rounds on that table right now!" Simmons ordered, bringing a gun over to load it. Several of the men were loading sub-machine guns. Mitch glanced over to the civilians, before meandering over.

"You guys look a little nervous." She smirked, crossing her arms. "Never seen a gun before?"

"I have!" The black guy protested.

"On video games?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm Lieutenant King." She offered a hand to the blond woman.

"Maggie," She shook and then gestured to her partner. "And this is my...adviser, Glenn."

"Mikaylea. And that's..." The raven-haired teen looked around for her counter-part but found him marching towards Simmons. She hurried after him. "Sam!"

"You have to take me to my car. You have to take me to my car." Sam demanded. "He's gonna know what to do."

"The car?" Simmons focused on loading his weapon. "It's confiscated."

"Well, un-confiscate it."

"We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing. You might know. I don't know."

"You just wanna wait here and see what happens!?"

"I have peoples lives at stake here, young man!" Simmons bellowed. Will had, by this point, had enough. He wrestled Simmons against one of the jeeps and pointed a gun at his chest.

One of the S-Seven men aimed his gun at Will, and Will pointed his pistol at the man, hand clenched in Simmons' shirt. Within seconds, the Special Ops team and S-Seven's men were in a Mexican standoff.

Mitch was calmly standing between two men, pistols pointed at both of them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Banachek lifted his arms.

"Drop your weapon, soldier." Simmons order in a condescending tone. "There's an alien war going on, and you're going to _shoot _me!?"

"Well, we didn't ask to be here."

"I'm ordering you under S-Seven Executive Jurisdiction-"

"S-Seven don't exist." Rob interrupted.

"That's right. And we don't take orders from people who don't exist." Lennox snapped.

"I'm gonna count to five."

"Well, I'm gonna count to three." Will growled, moving his pistol to Simmons' chest and clicking off the safety.

"Simmons," Keller got his attention. "I'd do as he says. Losing isn't really an option for these guys."

The room was silent for a moment and then Simmons nodded.

"Alright. Okay. Hey, you wanna lay the fate of the world on the kid's Camaro. That's cool."

* * *

The kid's, Sam's Camaro turned out to be another alien robot, painted yellow and being torture/expiremented on in Room Twenty-Four.

And he was pissed when they let him go, pointing cannons at Will's men and the S-Seven boys. Mitch's heart went out to the poor thing when he gave a pained whimper.

"They're not gonna hurt you. Put the guns down." Sam soothed. Mitch blew her short black hair from her eyes, took a deep breath and strode forward, pushing her rifle into Sam's hands.

She was met with a cannon to the face. The woman extended her hand to the robot.

"I'm Lieutenant King. It's nice to meet you..." The gun vanished and the robot knelt, obviously detecting something in her voice, because he offered her one of his three fingers.

"_Sweet little Bumblebee._" The catchy tune spewed from his radio and Mitch and the yellow bot shook hands.

"Good, good, okay." Sam nodded. "Bee, follow me. We're gonna take you to the AllSpark."

* * *

Bumblebee raised his hands to the enormous Cube.

_You brought me one of mySparks!_ The Cube cooed, obviously adoring the small-ish robot. _Isn't he cute~! _

_'Your Spark?' _

_A spark is like a Cybertronian's heart, but each one is different. _An image of a blue ball of energy appeared in Mitch's brain, and it had a lightning shaped yellow streak. _That's Bumblebee's spark. He's my child, don't you know?_

_'You can have kids?' _

_I'm the mother and father of most of the Cybertronian race. I created the Thirteen Primes, and I created their mates, and I created an entire planet for them to live on. And when they had children, I gave their children mates. Eventually, the Cybertronians started producing enough offspring themselves, but sometimes couples would come to me for a sparkling. Occasionally, I made a spark just because I could. Bumblebee was one of those. He was one of my last.  
_

_'That's...depressing.'_ Mitch watched as the Cube folded in on itself, awestruck. _'So, you're a god then?'_

_Pfft. No. Primus is the Cybertronian god. He's the one who takes care of the Well of Sparks; an after-life deity, I suppose. I am Life, and he is Death. But he's quite nice for a Death.  
_

"_Message from Star Fleet, Captain...Let's get to it._"Bee looked at the Cube in his hands and then the humans below him.

"He's right." Will stepped forward, facing his unit. "We stay here, we're screwed with Megatron in the other hanger. Mission City is twenty-two miles away. We're gonna sneak that Cube out of here, and hide it somewhere in the city."

"Good. Right." Keller pointed.

"But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force."

"This place must have some kind of radio link." Keller turned to Simmons.

"Yes."

"Short wave! CV!"

"Sir, you've gotta figure out some way to get word out to them." Lennox turned to the loaded jeeps. "Let's move. Sam, get in the car! While we're waiting for Simmons to get our birds in the air, we're gonna get radios for Epps and his men, okay?!"

"Affirmative." Mitch jogged behind Will.

"Lieutenant,"

"Yes, Captain?" She jogged level with him. "Go with the kid."

"Sir, yes, sir!" She flagged the yellow sports car down and hopped into the back with the Cube. "I'm going with you."

"But-" Sam made to protest.

"Orders, kid."

"_Ain't no stopping us now, we're on the move!_" Bumblebee informed, roaring away from the Hoover Dam.

They were only a few miles away, Sam sulking in the front still, when he looked at Mikaylea. "The Cube okay?"

"Yup."

"Put the seatbelt on it."

* * *

The highway they were on had two lanes now; one going their way, and one going the other way.

The road was pretty much deserted, except...

Sam stuck his head out the window and then brought it back in. "There's Optimus!"

"Who's Optimus?" Mitch whispered to Mikaylea.

"He's the leader of the Autobots. The good guys."

"Oh. He's the semi in the front then?" Her grey eyes followed the blue and red custom painted semi cab as it pulled a very neat -and very illegal- U-turn on the road, pulling up behind the jeeps. A Pontiac Solstice made a smooth glide in behind Optimus, followed by a Topkick and a Search-and-Rescue Hummer.

The Solstice darted past the semi and wove between the ranks of jeeps pulling up just behind Bumblebee. The semi let the truck and Hummer pass him to bring up the rear.

The highway widened as the convoy approached Mission City and the vehicles spread across the lanes. The Pontiac was now level with Bumblebee.

"_Life is a lot like jazz...It's best when you improvise._"

The radio crackled to life and across the screen, it displayed _Jazz; First Lieutenant._

"Aw, Bee. That's so true." A new voice, a deep tenor, laughed into the Camaro.

"_By and large, jazz has always been like the kind of man you wouldn't want your daughter to associate with._"

"...You cut meh real just now, Bee."

"I assume, you're the Pontiac beside us?" Mitch leaned forward, gazing around Mikaylea to the silver sports car. It flashed it's lights and rolled the window down a bit, showing the lack of driver.

"What's crackin'?" He laughed. "Who're ya?"

"Lieutenant King."

"Heeeey, you're a lieutenant too! I like ya already. The names Jazz."

"I gathered that." Mitch snorted, eying the car.

"Jazz," Sam interrupted their conversation. The radio displayed several more names; Ratchet, Optimus, and Ironhide. "We have the Cube."

"Prime thought so. He said he detected AllSpark radiation." One of the new Autobots spoke up.

"So, what's the story?" Another asked.

"Uh, we got dragged to Sector Seven...Found Megatron frozen in their basement, and found the Cube a few hangers down. Now we're going to hide it in Mission City."

"No, no, no no!" Sam suddenly turned around and stared out the back window. "It's the same cop! Block him. Block him. Block him."

Optimus, Ratchet and Ironhide moved to take over the lanes, not allowing for any car to pass. The semi threw on his brakes and transformed just seconds after the tan truck-thing with the fork transformed and they tumbled off the overpass.

The convoy, minus the semi-truck, continued into the city and pulled to a screeching halt outside a shop called '_Rhonda's Pawn Loan Center'. _Mitch vacated Bumblebee and left the two teens with the Cube.

The silver Pontiac was parked along side Bee, and the driver side door popped open as she approached.

"You have very good taste in cars, my friend." Mitch hummed as she dropped into the seat, sliding her hands over the wheel.

"Thank you." Jazz replied, revving his engine. "That tickles you know."

"Sorry. Robot that turns into car...Forgot." Mitch chuckled, shaking her short hair from her face. They drove a merely a few blocks before an F-22 showed up.

Epps popped green smoke, talking into a monster radio. Ironhide, who Mitch had assumed was the Topkick, transformed quickly. The moment his face was clear, he was yelling.

"It's Starscream!"

"Please tell me you copy." Epps begged.

"Back up. Take cover. Bumblebee," He gestured for the yellow Autobot to follow him to a Furby truck in the road. Jazz backed up a few feet, but was otherwise motionless.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Move!" Will bellowed, sprinting for cover.

"Back up! Back up!"

"Retreat! Fall back!"

"Incoming." Was the warning they had about the missile headed their direction, from Ironhide, before it struck. Obviously, Starscream wasn't friendly. Rubble showered the block and pebbles peppered Jazz's hood. He was -thankfully- a safe enough distance away that Mitch could view the entire explosion, and watch Bumblebee's legs go flying in one direction while he went the other way.

"Lemme out, Jazz." The door popped open, and Mitch hurried for where Bumblebee's legs were laying, half in a cafe and half on the sidewalk. The raven-haired woman gazed at the metal legs and pushed against them, trying to move it. It wouldn't be very helpful if Bumblebee's legs got blown up, cause Mitch was pretty sure that Ratchet was the medic and he was probably able to reattach the legs.

Unfortunately, the legs were made of metal and much too heavy for her to to move.

"Ratchet!" Sam's urgent cries brought Mitch's attention back to the battle, and she ducked into an alleyway, a determined expression on her face.

'_There's two bad robots here. Optimus took care of that one on the overpass...Megatron is not here. Where the fuck is the cop car!?_'

"Aw, fuck." She growled, glancing at Epps. She bolted over. "I'm going scouting."

"Sure thing. Lennox!" Rob yelled, grabbing the Captain's attention. "Lieutenant is going scouting."

"Be careful." Will yelled over his shoulder as Mitch hopped into an abandoned car, and drove away from the battle scene, which was something she didn't normally do. Five blocks down the road, she pulled to a screeching halt and hurled herself into a building. She ducked behind a window, attached a scope to her rifle and pulled off the safety, pointing it down the road. It wasn't long before the cop car crawled from around the corner.

Mitch narrowed her eyes, took sight of his front wheel and fired. Air hissed from the blown tire, and then the other two she could see. She aimed quickly for where she knew the gas tank was, and with a sharp metallic clanging, the cop car transformed into an angry looking robot. A bullet pierced his gas tank, and a waterfall of glowing blue liquid spilled from it.

Mitch pulled the pin on one of her grenades, threw it and took cover. She poked her head out after the shock from the explosion and viewed the wreckage.

Debris fell from her body, and there was a sharp stinging pain across her cheek and nose. The robot was downed, shaking his large head. More of the blue liquid littered the streets. Another grenade joined the first one, but this one did more damage.

When Mitch looked again, the robot's red eyes were black and he was limp.

"Fuck yes. Note to self: Blue stuff is highly explosive." She walked towards the large robot carefully, and her hair whipped around her face as another robot flew overhead. A struggling silver figure was held tight in his grasp.

A whining sound activated on the downed cop car's higher arm and Mitch had a brilliant idea. She was careful climbing atop the robot, and she propped up his cannon arm, aiming for what she recognized as Megatron, and Jazz, who was held in his grip.

"You wanna piece of me!?" Jazz yelled, ripping pieces off of Megatron and firing rounds of his own weapon into the bad guy leader's armor. "You wanna piece of me!?"

"No!" Megatron roared. "I want two!"

And Jazz was ripped in half. Mitch kicked the cannon and it fired a single shot before dying. The blast struck Megatron in the chest, and he nearly lost his balance.

A semi roared into the road and with a quick but dramatic transformation, Optimus was standing a mere two blocks behind Mitch. "Megatron."

"Prime." Megatron tossed both halves of Jazz in opposite directions. Mitch took one look at the Harvenger of Death and bolted towards where she knew the half containing Jazz's head was. It wasn't far, and it was thankfully in view of one of the other bad robots, who's attention was focused on what Mitch knew to be her team.

"Hey, it's mah lieutenant buddy." Jazz rasped quietly, laying as still has he could.

"Hey. That was brave you know." Mitch approached him cautiously, and seated herself against his shoulder, near his face. He didn't have bad features, and he had a visor over both his eyes, but it was cracked.

"Ah was..." He coughed and blue liquid spewed from his mouth. "Improvising."

"You scared?" She asked, touching his cheek with her calloused hand.

"Of dyin'? Not really. Of leavin' mah team and mah friends? Oh yeah. Let them know...That Ah'm gonna miss them." His visor flickered.

"If I survive, I will."

"Take mah gun. It should keep ya safe enough to tell 'em for meh. It's got a shield."

"That's a pretty bad-ass gun, Jazz."

"What's your actual name, Lieutenant King?"

"My name is Michelle King. But my friends call me Mitch." She grinned, chuckling. Jazz chuckled too. "And I think I'd be kind of honored if you called me Mitch too."

"Ah-right." Jazz murmured, his visor flickering off. "Don't...forget."

"I won't." She promised, standing from her spot. Jazz's gun lay a few feet away and it was small enough that Mitch could carry it with little problem. The second her fingers hit the smooth metal, a transparent blue shield appeared, covering most of her vitals.

_Help Sam. _

Mitch was still, and then her grey eyes hardened. Her feet took her in the direction of the beige-ish Decepticon. However before she got there, smaller almost golden blast began hitting the Con.

"Let's see what this baby can do." Mitch muttered, pointing the gun towards the Con's head. The screen that hovered just behind the shield told her the number of shots left until recharge; a good ten shots.

The sights locked on, and Mitch pressed the trigger. It hit the Con's damaged arm, blowing off most of the armor as a shot hit dead center. The lieutenant hurried to meet with the rest of her team.

"Where the hell you been!?" Rob yelled, smacking Mitch over the head. She rolled her eyes, and surveyed the damage.

"Fighting. Downed a guy. Helped Jazz."

"Jazz?"

"Move out!" Will ordered. "Lieutenant, I want a report later."

"Yes, Captain." Mitch nodded, straightening.

"Move out. There's still Megatron." Will set off down the road.

"Captain Lennox," Mitch coughed.

"Yes?"

"Megatron and Optimus Prime went that way." She pointed down a darker alleyway.

"Move out...that way!"

* * *

Epps crouched against the exit to the alley, lifting a radio to his ear before looking at Will and Mitch. "Fighter jets in sixty seconds."

"We've got friendlies mixed with bad guys. Targets will be marked with lasers." Epps told the pilots on the other end.

"Bring the rain." Will clapped his hand down on Rob's shoulder. "Let's kill these things. Move, move, move. Remember aim low; the armor is weak under the chest."

The group of dirty soldiers tip-toed into position, lasers held at the ready. Mitch pulled hers from her cleavage again as Will picked up a nearby motorcycle, and revved it up.

Rob muttered into his radio again, and whispered into Mitch's ear. "Twenty seconds."

She passed it to the next person and aimed her laser at the robot's back, where the helicopter rotor was.

"F-22's, we're still waitin'."

Unfortunately, the Con noticed the dot on it's arm as it turned, and focused on the men. "Move it!"

Lennox sped his bike towards the robot. The Con, was had demolished the SOCCENT Qatar base, fired on the soldiers, who scrambled out of the way. Mitch hunkered behind her shield and returned fire, just as Lennox came roaring by.

He tilted the bike to the side, and slid beneath the metal monster, firing into where the Decepticon's groin would be. Blue liquid splattered out, and sparks flew as the helicopter Con fell to the ground.

"Woo-hoo!"

"Yo, Will!" Mitch called, delivering a kick to the Con's head. "Your ass hurt?"

"Fuck! It burns." Will yelped, waddling over to his team.

"It did look pretty bad-ass though." Rob laughed.

* * *

"You left me no choice, brother." Optimus sighed as Megatron's optics went offline. The survivors gathered around the four-way intersection. Jazz was held in Ironhide's hands, both halves of him, and Mitch stood near Rob and Will.

"Robots can be related?" She muttered to the African-American beside her. Rob shrugged.

"Sam," Optimus knelt to be eye-level with the civilian boy. "I owe you my life. We are in your debt."

The enormous robot stood as a tow-truck pulled up, Bumblebee strapped to the back. Mikaylea leapt out and smiled at the boy in the brown hoodie.

"Prime," Ironhide stepped forward, holding out Jazz. "We couldn't save him."

"Ah, Jazz." Optimus took the silver bot from his weapons specialist. "We lost a great comrade, but gained new ones. Thank you, all of you. You honor us with your bravery."

"Permission to speak, sir?" A slightly British voice came from Bumblebee.

"Permission granted, old friend." Optimus turned to the young yellow bot.

"You speak now!?" Sam exclaimed.

"I wish to stay with the boy."

"If that is his choice." The Prime nodded.

Sam nodded, smiling. "Yes."

Optimus glanced at his 'brother' again, knelt before him, and plucked something from the still glowing hole in the Death Lord's chest.

* * *

"Gentlemen, it is the direct order of the President that Sector Seven be terminated, and the remains of the dead aliens be disposed of. The Laurentian Abyss is seven miles below sea level. Deepest place on the planet. The aliens will be deposited there, where the intense pressure coupled with sub-zero temperatures will crush and entomb them... leaving no evidence. "

* * *

Mitch grinned as she climbed from the custom painted Peterbilt, giving it a pat before striding into the not-shabby-but-not-average apartment building she lived in. After climbing three sets of stairs, she was engulfed in a bear hug that smelt like house cleaner, Bounce sheets, and freshly baked cookies. The woman dropped her bag and hugged the other woman back.

"I worry about you!" The other woman scolded, pulling away to show her wrinkled face and grey hair, before she hugged Mitch again.

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Santos." Mitch chuckled, her eyes wet. "I missed you too."

"Jovencita, me tenía muy preocupado cuando me enteré de que el ataque a su base de SOCCENT en Qatar en la televisión ...!"

"Lo siento. Lo siento. Yo soy su mayoría positivas que no vuelva a suceder." Mitch replied, laughing. Mrs. Santos let the younger woman go and ushered Mitch towards her own apartment.

"Seguí el lugar limpio, y yo usé la llave sobre la puerta." Mrs. Santos explained, and forced Mitch into a seat at the small table near the kitchen. A plate of fresh cookies and a vase of flowers sat on the table. "I leave you to eat now, and wash up. You tell me everything tomorrow, si?"

"Gracias."

"De nada."

* * *

**Mitch's Spanish in the SUV: Oi, how about you two be quiet before I break my feet off in your asses.**

**Mitch and Mrs. Santo's Conversation**

**Mrs. Santos: Young lady, you had me worried sick when I heard about the attack at your SOCCENT base in Qatar on the...television!**

**Mitch: Sorry. Sorry. I am mostly positive it won't happen again.**

**Mrs. Santos: I kept the place clean and used the key above the door**

**Mitch: Thank you**

**Mrs. Santos: You're welcome. **

**Mrs Karyme Santos is the old lady who lives across from Mitch. **

**Also Barricade isn't dead. Jazz, sadly, is.**


	4. Three Months: Training in Russia

More than a month had passed since the battle in Mission City. The Decepticons had been dropped to the bottom of the ocean and the Autobots along with Lennox's team- had seen Jazz off. Now she was currently returning to life where every day she wasn't in immediate danger.

Of course, the woman still slept with both of her pistols tucked into between her twin bed and her bedside table. Currently, she was seated at her small dining room table, cleaning out both of the custom guns.

Mitch quirked an eyebrow when someone knocked on the door.

She didn't get visitors often, as most of the neighbors -minus Mrs. Santos- kept to themselves. Mitch didn't live in a very nice part of the city and her apartment building housed druggies, alchoholics, a few whores, an old woman, and she was pretty sure that there was a goth guy living the next floor down.

The raven-haired woman stood from her chair and tucked her cleaning rag into the backs of her tan cargo pants before answering the door.

A man in a pristine black suit stood outside her door, his slacks, blazer, shirt, and tie all completely without a wrinkle. He clutched a polished black brief case with silver clasps, and a pair of black sunglasses sat on his face. His dark brown hair was cut neatly.

"Lieutenant King, my name Nathaniel Ayers." The man gave a quick nod, his face black. He had some sort of accent, but Mitch couldn't quite place it. "I from the Ubiytsa Departamenta. May I come in for brief chat?"

Mitch stepped aside and closed the door behind him as he took a seat at her cluttered table. The raven returned to cleaning and reassembling her gun. The apartment was silent until the last piece was in place.

"Those custom-made?" Nathaniel asked, nodding to the gleaming silver.

"Yes." Mitch nodded, shoving the two pistols into the waistband of her cargo pants, before leaning forward. "Now why don't we have this chat of yours?"

"Very vell. " The man opened his brief case and handed her a file, which Mitch took to browsing as he spoke. "Your uncle, Aaron King, has lived in Russia for many years. He's a successful man, with _mnogo _of training. Martial arts and military both, yes? He has become very rich vith his business in training skilled soldiers and spies for Russia for many years. Recently, in an accident involving highly explosive weapons, he lost three of his top trained spies and four of his soldiers. He has sent me from Russia, to you."

Placing the file down, which contained the information on her Uncle Aaron's business and how well it was doing, Mitch gave the man a suspicious look.

"And?" She hummed, threading her fingers together and leaning on them.

"Gospodin King has request me to recruit you into training at his faculty in Northern Russia."

"I can't-" Mitch began, grey eyes narrowed.

"Gospodin King has already contacted your military commanders, requesting your transfer to his faculty. You're income salary will be increased, and all is put into order for you to move. You vill simply need to sign at the bottom of the last paper in the file."

He handed her a pen.

"I'm not going to sign anything, until I know what I'm getting into or I get a direct order from-" The raven growled as the man's phone rang, and he handed it to her.

"It is for you." He smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"Hello?" Mitch listened to the voice on the other end, nodding on in a while, before she responded. "I understand, sir. I'll start packing now."

Nathaniel held out his hand for his phone, and Mitch grumbled as she snatched a pen from his hand as he handed it to her. Her name was sprawled quickly onto the thin line at the bottom and she pushed the entire file back.

"I vill be back in three hours to pick you up for the plane to Russia. Pleasure doing business with you, Lieutenant."

"Like-wise." Mitch sighed, glaring daggers at his back when he shut the door.

* * *

True to his word, Nathaniel was back at her door in exactly three hours. Mitch didn't actually have a lot of clothing, mostly comfortable clothing and uniforms, so two duffel bags sat at her feet and her pistols were placed in a small carry on with food and an empty bottle of water.

"Let's get going." He smirked, hefting one bag onto his shoulder and leaving her to carry the other. As they climbed the stairs down to the third floor, the goth guy appeared. His face was black, plastered in white make-up and he held a paint brush dripping with red paint in his hand.

"Afternoon, RubyAshe." She waved as they passed. RubyAshe nodded quietly and returned to painting on the door. It opened with a screech seconds later and the goth boy was chased away from the door by a young woman wearing a pair of sweat pants.

"The power of God-" The girl shrieked as Nathaniel and Mitch descended. RubyAshe flashed a smirk in the soldier's direction before vanishing into his own apartment.

"That happen often?" Nathaniel asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

"Yup. Almost everyday for something or another. Happens when the Satanistic Goth lives across from the always high hardcore God-worshipper." The raven shrugged. "Mrs. Santos thinks they have a thing for each other, but she's a nosy old woman."

"I see." He nodded, opening the door for her into pouring rain. An expensive looking car sat in front of the building and one of the bums down the street was eying it with interest. The guy would have taken it too, but there was a man sitting in the driver's seat. The truck popped open and the two standing in the rain were swift in stashing the two duffel bags into the back, as well as climbing into the back.

The ride was silent, save for the rain, engine and the soft violin playing through the speakers. The airport came into view and the man in the front flashed a card through a terminal, before being ushered through to the runway. A small private jet sat on the runway, the door open and a set of stairs set against it.

"The jet is ready to go, Major Ayers." The driver informed, passing the smug looking man a black umbrella. "A pleasure driving you, Lieutenant King."

"Thanks." Mitch gave the man a confused look, ran to grab her bags and rushed onto the plane just seconds after Nathaniel.

* * *

"So, a Major, huh?" Mitch leaned on her knees as Nathaniel sipped a glass of champagne.

"A decorative title, I assure you." He smirked, leaning back into his chair.

"Great. What the heck does my uncle do exactly?" Mitch grumbled, leaning back into her chair.

"You'll find out when we get there." Nathaniel grinned, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "There's a couch over there. I suggest you get some sleep."

"Right." Mitch rolled her eyes, rising and striding to the couch. Nathaniel merely pulled a book from the compartment beside him.

* * *

Aaron King's faculty was located in Northern Russia, in a small back-water town. When the jeep Nathaniel had driven them there in stopped in front of a polished beige mansion, Mitch wasn't exactly sure what to expect.

"Out. One of the servents will bring your stuff to your room. Aaron is waiting with a light dinner. Romanov will show you in."

Romanov was a portly man wearing a tailor black suit in the doorway, and he led her to what could only be a dining room. Aaron was waiting.

He was a tall man, with high cheekbones, a straight nose and a large figure covered in muscles. His hair was dark grey and brown, his eyes grey and his mouth was set into a welcoming line. Mitch had never, ever, known her uncle to smile.

Seated at the table with him were seven other people, all from different places; a dark-skinned man with an African accent, a Japanese man, an Italian woman was speaking with another woman with an Australian accent, an Indian man was tapping his fingers on the table, a Brazilian man was speaking with another Brazilian woman at near the end of the table.

All of them immediately silenced when Aaron stood. "Dobro pozhalovat' v moy dom."

"I don't speak Russian." Mitch deadpanned, dropping into the last vacant seat.

"Welcome to my home, plemyannitsa." Aaron rolled his eyes and seated himself. "I am glad you've arrived safely. There wasn't too much hassle?"

"I was ordered here by my superiors." She growled, glaring at her uncle.

"Yes, well. I wanted you here. And what I want, I get. By any means necessary." Aaraon rumbled as men appeared with food. "Everyone dig in."

Aaron watched as everyone ate silently, before he spoke up. "As you know, through your...brief explanation, I've lost a large portion of my highly trained soldiers and spies. To receive my yearly funding from various places around the world, I have to have trained a certain number of people, and with this group...dead...I won't meet this quota. Therefor, with a bit of research into various military files, I've selected the eight of you to replace them. You have three months to train to their standard and you start tomorrow."

"Why us?" The African man asked, placing his fork down.

"All of you, according to your files, have decent ranks in your military or dojo. And after inquiring to your trainers, I've learned that all of you are fast learners. That's the most important thing. Eat quickly; you have an early rise tomorrow." Aaron left the room as several men strode in. Mitch was one of the first to finish, along with the African man. They stood, shared a look and a man stepped forward.

"This way." He demanded, gesturing for them to follow. The African glanced down at her from his towering six foot five over her five foot nine.

"What is your name?" The African man asked, clearly having a little difficulty with his English.

"Lieutenant Mitch King." She offered her hand, and he shook. "You?"

"I am Tendaji Afolayan." He flashed his white teeth in a smile. "I hope we will become friends? You seem like an interesting person."

Mitch laughed. "Thanks."

"I must ask though," The man scratched the back of his closely shaved head. "Are you related to Bwana King?"

"Yeah. He's my uncle. What language do you speak?"

"I speak Swahili." The man chuckled as their guide stopped.

"These are where you'll sleep." The guy pointed to the two doors at the end of the hall, facing one another. "Lieutenant King is on the right, and Maulana Afolayan on the left."

"Asante." Tendaji smiled, vanishing into his room. Mitch gave their guide a weird look before vanishing into her own room.

Her room was painted in a cream color, with chocolate drapes and accents in the room. Any metal was painted gold, and her khaki colored duffel bags sat at the end of the bed.

After showering, Mitch pulled on a pair of boxers and a tank top before sliding under the thick quilt.

* * *

The first week in Russia was spent going over the group's already known skills and learning slowly about each other. Tendaji and Mitch became quick friends.

By the time the first month ended, the eight adults were prone to arguing, hitting each other, but were much more trained then they thought they would be, and more educated as Aaron had them all learn one another's languages.

Half-way through the second month, the Italian woman, Lelia Tanzi, whom they had nicknamed, Lia, was doing drills with the fighter jet pilots, and the Brazilian woman, Fatima D'Cruz, was learning as fast as she could about how to actually fly a plane. Before she came to Russia, she was a jet mechanic and a capoeira instructor.

The rest of them were being put into high-level simulations and team building exercises.

All of them were stuck in one right now -including the two pilots, with the Indian guy as Captain, the Australian as SIC. It wasn't going well, the Brazilian male, Victor D'Cruz, was 'dead' and their enemy, another team with more training then them.

"Fatima, take Shou and Michelle around the corner for-" Mitch bristled, and she snapped.

Her normally quick fuse had been on it's last shreds these past few days, coupled with her lack of sleep due to the others fighting; Mitch had been a ticking time bomb for the past few days.

"Enough. First of all, my name is Mitch or King. Call me anything else and I will shoot you in the foot. Don't think I won't." She growled, voice quiet to keep the other team from hearing. "I am taking charge or we are going to fail again."

"You can't do that!" The man hissed, glaring.

"Watch me, Dipak." Mitch turned and assessed the situation. "Ten, up the nearest building. I want you maintaining visual the best you can, while staying under cover. See if you can spot Sostav Reka from up there. Shou, I want you to cover Bridgette; keep our medic alive. Dipak, Shou and Lelia; keep your eyes out for the enemy. They're more experienced then we are, know the course better, and they have an Eye in the Sky. Let's move out."

"Yes, ma'am!" The group saluted, and moved into action.

Above the city course, in the control room, Aaron lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Nathaniel, who was wearing a headset and not just a pair of headphones like he was. The two men in the control room were watching the entire thing, and connected the frequency of one of the teams. Nathaniel was the Eye in the Sky for Sostay Reka, and Aaron was listening in on Sostay Zelenyy.

"Boys, Zelenyy is under new orders, and Chocolate has split from the group. Looks like Crown has taken leadership." Nathaniel leaned forward, listening to the reply, before nodding. "Rodger that."

* * *

Mitch ducked beneath a window as the two remaining members of Reka appeared, guns held loosely in their hands as they meandered down the street. Mitch growled, checking her remaining clips, only to find she had none, and only had three painballs left. Tendaji, who had been picking off the memebers from above, was too far away to do anything, Bridgette was 'fixing up' Dipak and Lelia. Fatima had been hit; both she and her twin were 'dead'.

So that left the odds two-against-one, and they were more experience than she was. The odds were not in her favor.

The two remaining young men of Reka were obviously related as they had they same facial shape. However, the one on the left was slightly shorter than his brother.

He also had the most unusual eyes Mitch had ever seen. She was pretty sure they were contacts, except she knew that contacts in training was a really bad idea. His eyes were gold, and his hair was the wildest shade of orange. He had an old fashioned pilot's cap on his head, with the goggles seated on the top. He was dressed in the standard grey uniform they'd all been given, but a orange band sat around his arm, and a cream scarf was wrapped around his neck.

His brother's eyes were hidden behind a pair of modern blue aviators. His uniform was also standard, with a blue scarf and a yellow scarf. His hair was blue, and looked absolutely windblown.

Both of them held guns as they turned their backs. Mitch narrowed her eyes, clicked the safety off her gun as quietly as she could, and took aim.

The guy with blue hair went down with the powerful shot to the back.

"Doing the dying I am, brother!" Blue cried dramatically.

"Brother!" Orange wailed, and then Blue 'died'. "Revenge I shall take on your death!"

Mitch crawled carefully away from her shooting point, and as Orange turned, she scrambled quickly into the next building, and climbed a flight to stairs. He was tucked against the wall of the building she had been in, slightly behind a dumpster, and she had two shots left.

Mitch leveled the gun, aimed, and took a calming breath. Orange looked around, confusion written on his face.

Mitch pulled the trigger.

Bright red paint splattered against the wall as the young man ducked. His head popped up again and he cocked his own gun, put Mitch fired a shot that hit the center of his protective vest.

"Join you in death I will, brother."

Mitch stayed crouched behind the wall, and the Bluetooth-like device in her ear crackled. "Well done, Zelenyy. You pass...Just barely. Sostay Reka, report to Team Training. They're expecting you."

Mitch made her way over to the brothers, and helped Orange up.

"Leading you are good at." He grinned, dusting himself off and helping up his brother. "Pozhar Struya I am. Zefir is mine brother!"

"Mitch King." She offered her hand and found both being shaken quite vigorously by the brothers.

"Mitch is being boy name, no?" Zefir questioned, all the while smiling. His eyes were very very blue behind his glasses. "Short for something your name must be?"

"Michelle." Mitch grumbled and the brothers smiled wider, if at all possible.

"Struya brothers," Nathaniel's voice crackled on their Bluetooth devices. "To Team Training."

"Okey-ing the dokey-ing!" The brothers snapped to attention. "Seeing you later we be, Mitch!"

"Uh...bye?"

* * *

It was nearing the end of the second month, while Mitch and her team were relaxing in the parlor of the mansion, that one of the uniformed servants appeared in the doorway, a silver tray held in his hand. In the center of the silver platter were two cream colored envelopes, with bold black writing on the front.

He strode purposefully over to Mitch, who was sprawled out on a large black leather chair. He offered the tray and the woman plucked both envelopes off, giving the man a strange look as he left.

When he left, she opened the letter with her name on the front, reading it swiftly with an eyebrow raised. The second letter she actually read and it took her several minutes, as there were three pages.

"Listen up!" Every person in the room snapped their eyes to her. "You have the rest of the night to pack. We're being shipped out on a trial mission at oh-five-hundred hours."

The raven turned on her heel and left the room, climbing the stairs swiftly. When she entered her room, a new uniform was folded carefully on top of her bed sheets, the sewn on insignia displayed to the roof.

"Captain King. I like it."

* * *

"Your mission," Aaron steepled his fingers, gazing at the adults gathered around his dining room table. "Is to secure-"

"Being late we are!" Zefir and Pozhar burst into the room and took the seats flanking Mitch. "Sorry we be!"

"As I was saying." Aaron King coughed, narrowing his eyes at the brothers. "Your mission is to secure Sector Foxtrot from these men."

He gestured to the manila folders that sat in front of each soldier. Inside were twenty pictures of somewhat normal looking men, all given code-names.

"They've integrated themselves into the community in the middle of Foxtrot, and are planning some kind of large-scale attack. You have two weeks to finish the mission. Their leader, code name Rover Seven, is some where in the community, and you are to apprehend. Bring him back alive. This is a training mission, and your weapons will be replaced with paintball guns, with red paint. Zefir, Pozhar; you are flying your jets. D'Cruz and Tanzi, you'll be on foot for this mission. Dire consiquences will be taken should you all fail."

Aaron paused, and stood. "Captain King will be in charge of this mission. Congratulations on your promotion, plemyannitsa." Mitch nodded, and stood.

"Our transport to the airport is waiting outside. Move out. Struya, with me." The raven gestured to the pilots. They came scurrying over, large smiles on their faces. "When did you get put in this unit?"

"Transfer we requested." Pozhar flashed two thumbs up, climbing into the black SUV with her and his brother. The driver, another suited man, pulled out of the mansion's driveway once it was full.

* * *

Mitch rubbed her temples, the book in her lap forgotten with the beginning of her headache. The plane from Russia to London had gone without a hitch, but their flight from London to Santiago, Chile, had a family of five. The youngest was screaming at the top of his lungs, the toddler wouldn't stop talking and the tween and teen were arguing. The mother, an exhausted looking woman, was fast asleep.

This family was the cause of Mitch's headache, and her temper was growing thin.

Another hour...and she'd had enough. The captain jerked to her feet, spun on her heel and directed a death-glare at the teenager, who's dark brown eyes went wide and he fell silent.

"If you would, civilian," She growled out, puffing out her chest. Everyone on the plane was silent now, watching as the woman in the army uniform dealt with the cause of annoyance on the plane. "Wake your mother, and behave yourself."

"You can't do jack." The tween snorted. He was dangling by his shirt in seconds, and the teen did nothing to stop it. The toddler even fell silent.

"Young man," Mitch sneered. "I am a Special Ops captain. Do you think I earned this rank by smiling and batting my eyelashes at my superiors? No. You will sit in your chair for the rest of the flight, and not say a word. And you,"

The teen went ram-rod straight, face draining of color. "Wake your mother to shut up that baby."

He nodded, and shook his mother rather roughly. "Ma, wake up."

"You!" She hissed. "I told you not to wake me up unless-"

"Ma'am, your screaming baby is disturbing me, my team, and the rest of this plane. I'd appreciate it if you shut him up."

"Yes, sir! Ma'am! Uh..."

"Thank you."

* * *

The warmth of the sun pressed against Mitch's back as she crouched on the top of one of the highest buildings, Tendaji at her side. The Struya brothers were back at their ground base, located on one of the nearby mountains. The team had jeeps to carry their supplies from the town about thirty miles away, and to bring them down the mountain.

Already, Mitch's team had taken care of twelve of the enemy, and they'd been shipped somewhere. Rover Seven and his top seven men were still hidden in the ruins of the city.

"_Crown, this is Demon. We have a visual on Flash Path and Hazard Razor._"

"Copy that, Demon. Who are you with?"

"_I'm with Spider._" Mitch nodded,before responding.

"Think you can get 'em?"

"_Not without Hawk._"

"Do not engage, Demon. Keep an eye on them. Are they moving?"

"_Yes, ma'am. They're headed in your direction. They should round a corner and you should be able to see them...now._"

A bulky man in black fatigues and another leaner man with a gun strapped to his back appeared. "We have them in visual. Hawk,"

Tendaji was already in position, finger pressed against the trigger as he followed the two men in his sights. About three seconds later, Flash Path and Hazard Razor lay 'dead' on the ground.

"_Crown, you've got four headed your way. Do you want back-up?_" Dipak asked.

"Thanks for the heads up. Cross and Sparky, head to our location stat."

"_Yes, ma'am!" _The Brazilian twins confirmed, and were sighted in seconds.

"Hawk, stay here. Pick off the targets from above; I'm going to help Cross and Sparky down below." Tendaji nodded as Mitch hurried down the stairs.

A group of on-alert men appeared, scanning the area around them for the team that was picking them off.

"Clear." The leader snapped, and red paint splattered against the jackets as the three soldiers-in-hiding unleashed their guns. "Never mind."

Once the entire group was 'dead', Victor, Fatima and Mitch placed them with the other two.

"_Crown, they've holed up in the temple._" Tendaji reported.

"Back to the jeeps. We'll go over strategy back at base."

"_Yes, ma'am!_"

* * *

The night was dark; crickets chirping, and the moon a crescent in the sky. A group dressed in black appeared around the corner of the ruins, crouched low to the ground. Two jets suddenly roared overhead, and the door to the temple the black-clothed group snapped open. The final goon appeared, rushing out and closing the door behind him, a paintball gun in his hand.

The door swung shut behind him, and the man, code-name Black Iron, stalked away from cover. The leader of the stealthy group, pointed to the shortest man in the group and the three other women, who split from the group and followed Black Iron from a safe distance. The remaining four slid closer to the building. The three men boosted the leader to the roof, and she let down a rope, pressing a finger to her lips.

She flashed white teeth once they were all on the roof, and made her way to an opening near the far end. The temple was set into the cliff face, and the roof had several holes in it. A rope tied around a boulder let the four down into the temple, where the made sure the room they landed in was clear.

The leader pointed to the door, checked the hallway, and hurried to the next room.

A man was seated in the new room, sipping a glass of soda with ice. The leader gestured for them to proceed.

The man went still as the barrel of a gun was pressed to the back of his neck and his temple.

"Surrender now, and you won't get hurt." The fairer skinned of the men growled. The man lifted his hand, and turned, firing a custom paintball gun into the stomach of the darker skinned taller man.

"Hawk!" The man bellowed in concern. The woman moved forward towards the laughing man, slapping the gun from his hands. Rover Seven tackled her to the ground, and the two exchanged blows until the woman got the upper hand by kneeing him in the stomach. She slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and then delivered a heavy punch to his stomach again.

She stood from Rover Seven's limp body, pulling a small phone with one call on it from her pocket. It rang several times, before the person on the other end picked up.

"Sir, we have captured Rover Seven. Further orders?" She was quiet. "Yes, sir. We'll be on our way immed-"

"Not...so fast." Seven grunted, pulling a small device from his pocket and pressing the button.

"Take cover!" The woman yelled, diving behind the couch in the room. Paint splattered throughout the room, and when she emerged, her team-mates and captive were all 'dead', covered in bright yellow.

"Captain King!" The man on the other end of the phone yelled. "What is going on!?"

"Sir, both of my men are down, and Seven set off a paint bomb. All three are dead." She was silent again, and then stood, leaving the body behind, and pulling out her radio. "Orange and Blue."

"_Yes, Boss-lady!? Is the badness man trouble being?_"

"Bring jeeps to the temple."

* * *

Aaron faced the group of twenty men and Mitch's group, which sat a small distance away. "Well done all of you. That was your graduation test. All of you have passed, and those watching have given me the funds to continue. Captain King and the Struya brothers will join me in the other room in a moment."

He continued speaking for several moments, before he gestured for the three to follow him.

"The three of you have been hired as body guards, temporarily, for a teenage boy in South Gate, California. It's a bit different than a normal mission, I know. But you three seem to work for the job. Also, kid is not allowed to know you're there guarding him."

The twins cast unreadable looks at each other, but saluted the same time Mitch did.

"You're being shipped out tomorrow, oh-eighteen-hundred hours."

* * *

**Sukhoi Su-33 for Jet Twins alt-modes.**

**Just so you're not confused.**

**Michelle's mother is half-Spanish, half-British and her father is half-Russian through his mother.**

**So, Mitch is half-British, a quarter-Spanish and a quarter-Russian.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Russian Spoken in this chapter:**

**mnogo: lots**

**Gospodin: mister**

**Dobro pozhalovat' v moy dom: Welcome to my home.**

**plemyannitsa: niece**

**Sostav Reka: Squad Stream**

**Sostay Zelenyy: Squad Green**

**Struya: Jet**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Swahili:**

**Bwana: Mister**

**Maulana: Master**

**Asante: Thank you.**


End file.
